Turning Tides
by Scorching Streaks of Paint
Summary: Sometimes, it just takes a few new thoughts to turn your whole world upside down. One-Shots revolving around the Phone Guy and the Purple Man (Based off of Rebornica's AU).
1. Guilt

_Somewhat based off of Rebornica's AU._

 _Vincent's (Purple Man/killer) POV._

 _Scott= PhoneGuy_

 _Purple Phone if you squint._

 _Basically about Vincent questioning his actions._

 _Enjoy!_

* * *

I smirked at him. His fingers trembled and his breath hitched. I could hear his very being quiver and I felt my grin grow. Every panicked sound he made I could hear with surprising clarity. Every scratch on his arms, every twitch in the eye, every smile tugged a bit too wide. All were beautiful music to my ears. My want, my obsession for him to be afraid of me was beginning to ooze into my actions and I knew it unnerved him. For a measly night guard, he wasn't that dumb. He knew that I would assault him the second he turned his back on me. And, today, he finally did. Oh, he desperately tried to remain calm, reasonable, but his chestnut eyes betrayed the raw fear he felt. But I didn't hurt him.

I had him pinned against a wall in our office. He squirmed and struggled against my vice-like grip, but I was simply too strong for him. It was funny, in a sense. He was four inches taller than me and two inches wider, yet he could not throw me off. It wasn't like I was buff or anything either. Others compared me to a lithe snake, both mentally and physically. And, like a snake, my grip tightened on my prey until he surrendered. His tired expression smothered his defiant one, and his sudden lack of fight gave me the opportunity to worm my hands over to his throat.

I felt his pulse skip a beat when my hands wrapped around his sensitive throat. His eyes stared into my own crystal ones when I started putting pressure on his neck. He started to sputter and cough and his hands whipped up to my own and gripped them helplessly. My blue eyes stared into his hazel ones, my deranged and creepy smirk reflected in his eyes. Then, slowly, my smile melted off my face and my grip loosened. My face was emotionless, my thoughts wandering off.

I couldn't kill him. Nothing resembling bloodlust courses through my veins. Nothing urged me to kill him. In fact, my... ugh, emotions opposed such a thought. No matter how much effort I put into planning to kill him, I couldn't muster any strength to actually go through with it. Had he become... my friend?

'No', I automatically rejected. But, then I thought about it.

Strangers? They were merely toys in my mind.

Family? They were all dead.

Boss? Hated him.

Fellow night guards? Mike Schmidt, that bastard that refused to die, was hardly an acquaintance, never mind a friend. He disliked me and I hated his guts that refused to be spilled. That shy night guard that always stuttered- Jeremy, I think?- seemed to be uunnerved by me, but didn't mind my being around. We weren't really friends though. Fritz Smith was odd. He avoided me at times and he always ignored me. However, whenever I held some type of food in my hands, he became a puppy.

But Scott- Scott was the only one that endured all of my awkward moments and my creepiness. Even when I flirted with him, making him shy away from me, he would always bounce back, acting casual with me even though we both knew that he was still shaken. He would always smile at me, even when my smile was less than pleasant.

And, I guess, that's the reason why I considered him to be a friend. He stuck by me, offered me companionship even though he knew what sins I had committed in the past.

I faltered, staring at Scott's expression for a couple of seconds before relinquishing my grip. I rolled my blue eyes into the back of my head, revealing only the whites of my eyes. It was a reflex of sorts. A defense, a signal to Scott that something was stirring in my head. An unwanted, unexpected feeling. I reeled back and muttered an apology. I paced out of the office, through the hallway, next to the stage, and out of the pizzeria.

I felt the nagging feeling growing stronger. It was guilt, an old enemy of mine. An emotion that reared its ugly head when I had killed that first child and the other five. An emotion that had eventually driven me back to a broken down pizzeria, allowing me to be killed by the spirits of the children I had murdered. But, as irritating as the emotion was, it was still fascinating.

It always knew when you were letting your guard down and never failed to appear when you least wanted it. It reminded you of your despicable mistakes, your past actions. And now, it was messing with my memories.

A memory of my first murder surfaced. A child, foaming at the mouth, was lying in front of me. The poor boy had been poisoned by me. I remember staring into his eyes, relishing the hatred and fear swirling in them. But, when I looked into those eyes again, all I saw was Scott's hazel eyes.

Oh, how much I loathed guilt.

Now I couldn't bear the thought of killing anymore.


	2. Hope

It had me.

It was gripping my leg with an impossible strength, dragging me towards my doom. I screeched and thrashed in its grip, kicking its arm insistently. Metallic clangs rang out in the dark hallway. My eyesight blurred and all I could see was the bright blue security guard outfit Scott wore. I could hear him scream something, but I couldn't hear it over the loud chuckle Freddy emitted from its broken voice box. Its aqua eyes glared down at me hauntingly, its pupils narrowing as it tugged on my leg fiercely. I was violently jerked forward, and my head hit the corner of the trash can. Stars sprung into my field of vision, black blurring around the edges. I felt myself go limp for a second, allowing Freddy to drag me closer to the backroom.

I felt a lump form in my throat as Freddy leaned down and picked me up from the back of my shirt, hauling me upward. Adrenaline spiked throughout my entire system and I landed a punch on the animatronic's eye, making it let go of me. I almost fell, but I backpedaled and leaned against a wall, staring at it in a defiant haze. I felt blood leak down from where I had hit my head. A lopsided smirk grew on my face as I saw the animatronic let out a cry, as if it were in pain. Freddy leered down at me, black ooze falling down from the eye I had punched. With a roar, it leaped forward, a large metal fist landing on my head.

I shrieked and was pushed back a few feet. The dark haze return at full-force, clouding more than half of my vision. Pain sprouted from my cranium as I landed on the floor. I was sprawled on it, blood staining the floor like spilled ink. I groaned and attempted to move, but I found that I couldn't. I let out a strangled sound as Freddy loomed over me, letting out a snicker. I saw its hand descend on my limp form and I almost screamed again, but something stopped the hand.

And that thing was Scott.

He let out a loud battle cry as he tackled into the animatronic, a crowbar lashing out and slamming onto Freddy's head. It turned its head, its black eye obviously scaring the shit out of Scott. I felt a sharp comment try to leap out of my mouth, but as soon as I opened my mouth, the bitter taste of blood leaked onto my taste buds. I weakly pushed myself out of the puddle and landed on my back. I stifled a moan as agony bash my head. I saw Scott rear back and lash his weapon across the animatronic's stomach, denting it slightly. It screeched and attempted to grip the man, but he slithered away and slammed the crowbar again, breaking the animatronic's outstretched fingers.

Freddy glared at him in rage before staring at its fingers slicked in black ooze. It had second thoughts about fighting Scott and huffed and ran away, screeching at the animatronics in the back of the hallway.

I was about to completely pass out when I felt Scott lift me up, rushing me to the safety of the office. I snapped myself awake, pushing away the black fog as best as I could. I felt the full extent of my injuries as Scott hauled me into the office, slamming the metal doors closed. I gritted my teeth at the harsh sound.

Scott looked at me worryingly, pushing me into a comfy chair. I glanced at him, touching my injury. I winced as blood coated my hand.

"Oh shit," the man muttered, his hazel eyes staring at my blood-stained hand in horror and shock. He hurriedly grabbed the medical kit, pulling out a huge wad of gauze. I stared at it in horror.

"Hell no," I mumbled, pushing against the floor. I was pushed back, away from the sticky bandage. "No way I'm putting that shit on my head." Scott gave me an irritated look, advancing toward me.

"Vincent, I didn't save you and risk my health and career for you to die on me," he exclaimed, gripping the arms of the chair and pulling me towards him. "Sit still and let me help you." I felt like spitting out a sharp comment, but I held my tongue. _He only wants to help. No need to get nasty._

He gently applied the gauze onto my head, placing roll upon roll onto my injured area. I flinched, feeling the pain flare at the contact. However, it slowly died down into a dull throb, allowing me to think about other things.

 _Why did Scott save me?_ I wondered as I lazily gazed around the office.

Why did Scott save me indeed. It truly puzzled me. A few days ago, I had outright attacked the man in a fit of insanity, pinning him down and almost ripping out his throat. Even though I did let him go later, it still didn't excuse the fact that I had almost killed him. And, he knew that I had killed before. Six smaller children. Six innocent children in his eyes, no matter how much I disagreed with him. I was ruthless in nature and deranged by habit. It would make the world a better place if he were to be rid of me. So, why didn't he let me die?

The first thought I had was that he didn't want to be accused of manslaughter. If the police caught him with my blood on his hands and drenched on his suit, he would be a sure suspect to my death, if I were ever found to be dead. But, since it would be unlikely that the officials would ever find my body, I shrugged that off. Then, I thought of how it would hurt him in the office. I would obviously help him while he was watching the cameras, checking for any animatronics at the door. That was actually how I got caught in the first place. I had turned on the East Hallway's lights and had startled Freddy, prompting it to attack me as soon as it recognized me. However, while I am useful that way, the boss could always replace me with a better worker if he wanted to, especially if his prized employee complained about me.

The last reason struck a cord in me.

Did he... consider me a friend?

While I did consider him the closest thing I had to a friend, it didn't mean that Scott considered me to be one. After all, he was a very sociable person, and he had the tendency to get along with everyone. Surely he wouldn't risk his hide to save someone that wasn't even considered to be a friend?

But, that thought kept on nagging at my heart. If he actually considered me to be a friend... I don't know why, but a long-forgotten feeling stirred in my chest.

Hope.

It was warm and it held onto my heart. It gnawed, but it didn't hurt unless it brought up shreds of doubt. It stung every time it brought them up, but the warmth melted the doubt away, reassuring me even though I sincerely doubted that Scott really likes me. However, the warmth urged me to act, to at least ask.

I blearily looked up at the man as he patted down the gauze, smoothing any sharp edges. Pain trickled down from my head to my toes, but I ignored it. I struggled to sit up, the fog slowly curling in on me and entrancing me. I felt myself slowly succumb to it as I stared up at Scott.

"Scott, can I ask you something?" I mumbled. He looked at me curiously through his brown strips of hair.

"Sure."

"Are you... are we friends?" I asked, gazing into his hazel eyes. I saw a flicker of hesitance and bewilderment show up. However, they were only a flicker, and that raised my hope up.

"... yes," he replied after a pause. I looked into his eyes, searching for some sort of deceit. I saw none. I rolled my eyes into the back of my head before closing my eyes, letting the haze sink its teeth into me and drag me to sleep. I let a small, sharp-toothed smile grace my lips.

A small feeling of happiness bloomed, but it left as quickly as it came.

* * *

 _wHAT VINCENT WHAT ARE YOU DOING?_

 _YOU MIGHT HAVE A CONCUSSION._

 _STAHP._

 _Hmph. Stupid characters doing stupid things._

 _Sigh. Thank you for reading guys! I was so happy when I received so many reviews~ In fact, the main reason why I'm continuing this is because of HawkeyeLover and Dragonpie! Give them both a round of applause~!_

 _Anyway, please review and tell me what you'd like to see next. I can do anything with my magical author powers, after all._


End file.
